


Nick Has A Heart And Nobody Knows How To Process This

by TheJoysOfAMultishipper (Amemah)



Series: Farcy happened. I don't know. They are very cute. [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 13:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2509871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemah/pseuds/TheJoysOfAMultishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint thought the state of overwhelming panic was cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nick Has A Heart And Nobody Knows How To Process This

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Farcy accidentally became my OTP and I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT ANYTHING ANYMORE.  
> I think it had something to do with listening to Lana Del Rey and reading all 19 fics that exists in the archive (what the fuck, there needs to be more) religiously. And then... This. 
> 
> There isn't any porn in this one, heterosexual is apparently harder to write. BUT, if anything goes to plan (which it rarely does regarding my writing, this ended up being nine pages long, seriously) there should be some soon. 
> 
> I just had to post this right now, because if I have to go through it one more time looking for mistakes... I will lose it.
> 
> Let me know what you think?  
> Tumblr: thejoysofamultishipper.tumblr.com / amemah.tumblr.com
> 
> Hugs <3

Nick looked down at his phone when he heard it ring, feeling some of the tension that came with the job ease when he saw the ID.

”Director Fury?” The man in question immediately sat straighter in his chair, pushing a button under his desk which would have Agent Coulson drop everything and get to his office. Nicholas could already see him moving quickly at the floor outside the Director’s window, Barton and Romanov right behind him.

 

“Who is this?” He answered as Phil stepped into the room without a sound as usual. Agents Romanov and Barton followed him, letting worry show on their faces. All three of them knew the Director had never actually used that button before.

 

Nick put the phone on speaker, Natasha already tracing the signal. Coulson and Barton noticed the way their boss couldn’t keep uneasiness off his face as the signal narrowed around the New York-area. They knew him well enough to be ready for anything, knowing anything even close to _worry_ wasn’t really something Fury ever let himself feel.

 

“It doesn’t matt-“

“Yes, it does you fuck!” Coulson’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing the new female voice.

“No it doesn’t!” The first one said, more force in his voice now, before continuing. “As I was saying; it doesn’t matter. What matters, Director Fury, is this… I know who your wife is,” Fury stood up and strode quickly through the Helicarrier, black coat flaring behind him. The look on his face had everyone giving him a wider birth than usual and out of the corner of his eye he could spot several operatives and specialists responding to Coulson’s orders of following the quartet. Natasha was a silent constant on his side, Barton, absently stroking the gun that was hiding under his shirt, right next to her.

 

_Wife_? He mouthed at Natasha, but she shook her head. Phil seemed surprised too, if the light tilt of his left eyebrow was any indication. If you wanted to know how a trained agent _really_ felt, you had to read the micro expressions. The obvious ones were there to fool you.

 

“And judging by the photos around, you’re a family oriented guy, Nick,” The voice continued. Fury’s hold on his phone tightened as he realized the man was in _his house_. Nicholas walked onto the bridge of the Helicarrier, tapping orders into the computer stationed at the end. Eighteen of the panels turned into screens, live streaming video from what could only be classified as a cozy - but modern - home. The scene in the master bedroom was nothing like the atmosphere the rest of the house held. Nick knew he wouldn’t be able to go with Barton and Romanov to get his wife back, but it was still difficult to stay composed, especially when he saw the position she was in.

 

 

 

“I can’t blame you, though. She’s such a pretty little thing.” They could see the man on the screen, smile evident on his face. It seemed a bit forced to Natasha, though.

_Mercenary_ , she mouthed to Barton, who nodded. This was good. If it weren’t an obsession or a grudge, it would be easier to take him down. No desperation to account for, no 'I love you, therefore we have to die together'.

 

“What. Do you. Want.” Not a single person in the room had ever heard that tone of voice from the Director before, but they were smart enough to realize nothing good could ever come of it. It made Morgan Freeman sound like he had a sore throat.

“Oh, wow. I know that voice. You are in so much fucking trouble right now, you’ve got no idea,”

 

The woman who spoke was lying in the bed, propped up on her elbows, duvet discarded to the side. She was wearing a smile, a big T-shirt, and the older agents recognized the design as SHIELD’s from several years ago. It was so well worn; they could see a bright pink bra strap on her shoulder where the shirt slouched. Nicholas was the only one that noticed the faint tremor in her right thigh, betraying how nervous the woman actually felt. He pushed down the guilt and fear and every other irrational emotion he knew would keep him from doing what needed to be done, and stared at the display.

 

She didn’t deserve this. Nick had never wanted to kill anyone as much as the man pointing a gun at his wife's head. 

 

“Agent Carter, get me everything you can on Darcy Lewis, she was present during the Thor-incident, we should have a file,” Coulson said, keeping his voice so quiet the other end of the phone couldn’t hear him. The blonde woman nodded, shot a quick look at the screen with a frown and went to follow her orders.

 

“Darcy?” Director Fury asked, glaring at the monitor.  _Please be okay._

“Yes, sweetheart?” Maria Hill, who was standing right next to her In-command after Romanov and Barton slinked away when they got the address, noticed the way Nick’s lips twitched. It took her a microsecond to realize he was suppressing a smile.

“You okay?” Nicholas continued, never letting his eyes off the form on the bed. Neither did any of the other agents in the room, nearly twenty of them now. The Assistant Director kept her eyes trained on the progress of Barton's team on the other monitors.

 

None of them said anything about how truly fucked they were if the man made any demands.

 

“Well, there _is_ a gun trained on my forehead, and I have the worst cramps in my stomach and my back. Even my feet hurt, seriously, you know how I get,” She quipped, voice never betraying how anxious she was. Darcy always knew there was a possibility she would be targeted because of her marriage, but both Nicholas and her had thought it would take a bit longer before the bad guys realized who she was.

 

“Yes, I do,” Fury answered dryly, years of training keeping him from rolling his eyes. He could do this. Could keep his voice calm and level, could keep Darcy calm and level and he would get her out of there. Hell, she could probably get herself out using her words; he's learned not to underestimate a Political Science-major. But Fury still had a thing for guns.

 

“And mister gunman over here,” Everyone noted the dirty look she sent her captor on the screen, the one right next to it showing the progress of the teams sent to their location, lead by Barton and Romanov.

“He refuses to get me chocolate,” Darcy said, staring accusingly at the tall man. The agents were still working on finding out who he was, but no luck yet.

“What an asshole,” Nick smiled; glad she was able to focus on her own voice to keep herself centered.

 

“I know, absolutely no respect for the female reproduction system!” Darcy’s voice was outraged, and Maria smiled approvingly. She knew better than anyone that having a uterus didn’t make you less qualified in _any way_ , but she did recognize the importance of candy on certain days. Phil’s eyes crinkled too, his memories of a woman shouting about her iPod and ‘civil rights at stake here, man!’ coming to mind. He wondered how she ended up married to _Nicholas Motherfucking Fury_ , but more importantly; how she _stayed_ married to Nicholas Motherfucking Fury.

 

“Yeah, okay, if we’re done discussing… _That_ , le-“

“Wait, what?” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow at her gunman before continuing.

 

_80 seconds out_ it blinked at a screen, from Agent Romanov.

 

“Let me get this straight,” She said,

“Here we go,” Fury murmured, a tiny smile playing at his lips. The agents looked away, again showing their incredible ability to handle high-pressure situations but not Director Fury having a heart.

 

“So you took the time to piece the puzzles together; figure I’m married to Nick or whatever, “ Nick wrinkled his forehead, silently mouthing _or whatever, what the fuck, we’re_ married. At least amused annoyance was easier to deal with than fear, and to be honest, it was a common feeling associated with Darcy Lewis-Fury.

 

“And then you made the decision to _break into Director Fury’s house_ , which, by the way; how stupid are you?” Darcy stared at the blond man in front of her, trying to figure what his game was. “And then you point your _gun_ at my _head_ and call my _husband_ ,” Agent Coulson and everyone else could clearly hear the ‘You idiot’ implied at the end there. It made his lips twitch.

 

“Yeah..?” The man asked, unsure about where this was going.

“You had the balls or stupidity, most of the time it’s the same anyway,”

“Can you stop referring to that _one ti_ -“ Fury said, the more familiar sound of his voice returning. Ironically that made his minions relax, the tone more familiar.

“I’ll stop mentioning it when you start _seeing a doctor when you’re shot_!”

“It was a _graze_ , it had already stopped bleeding!”

“After _three hours_ , Nick! How difficult is it to stop by medical on the way home?!”

 

Phil knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. He snorted. The full force of Nicholas Fury’s glare was directed at him, but it was worth it. The way some of the people working directly under His-First-Name-Is-Agent Coulson looked at him like they’d seen Jesus himself rise again, was just a bonus.

“I don’t know,” Nick answered, eyes still trained on Phil for a second before checking on Romanov and Barton. On the footage from their car he could see way their entire team were grinning too, obviously listening to the audio.

“How difficult is it to let me train you in _self-defense_?”

 

Darcy grimaced, but couldn’t help rolling her eyes a little bit, scratching at her left leg with her right one. Even the gunman looked amused at their exchange and Nick knew he was going to go crazy any day now.

 

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you that one,”

“Mhm,” Nick said, a smug tone to his voice. This time Phil knew _he_ was the one going crazy, but he’d always known Nick Fury would be the reason for his downfall anyway. The fact that Darcy Lewis is a contributing factor honestly doesn’t surprise him in the least.

 

Nick Fury sounded _smug_. What.

 

“But!” She said, body surging up in the bed, and the gunman didn’t even blink an eye at the finger she was waving around. He seemed to have given up on the whole “kill/kidnap Darcy Lewis”-plan, and seemed a bit smitten. Nick knew the feeling. (He was going to make sure he was taking good care of afterwards, anyway. Like _hell_ anyone attacked Darcy in their own home, _their bed_.)

 

“But! If I find one more weapon in the kitchen cupboard, I swear to Go-“

“For fuck’s sake, there is literally someone with a gun at your head _right fucking no_ -“

“Will you let me fini-“

“Let me talk, Da-“

 

Most of the agents had a small smile on their face by now, not just Phil. No one had ever seen Director Fury like this before, and if truth be told… Reluctant and annoyed amusement was a good look on him, even if it did make his forehead wrinkle.

 

_30 seconds out_ , Romanov sent. _Keep him talking._

_Not really going to be a problem_ , Phil answered and could see the way Romanov smirked when she read the text.

 

“Okay, you know what?” Darcy said, sitting upright. “I can’t deal with you right now, I had something important to tell stupid over here. Nick, I swear, _if you rolled your eyes…”_

“No idea what you’re talking about, honey,”

“You only use ‘honey’ if you’re guilty,”

“HA! Knew I’d get you to tell me my tells,” Maria Hill looked like her entire worldview was changing before her very eyes as her boss quarreled with his wife.

 

“Nicholas, oh my god, where the fuck are my rescuers, I’m so over this shit,”

 

“Right here,” Natasha Romanov strode into the room with the confidence of someone who knew how to strangle someone with her thighs. Darcy wanted to be her when she grew up, or maybe Pepper Potts.

“Most people do,” Romanov answered as she handcuffed the man responsible for all of this, Barton effectively disarming him. The guy didn't seem all that concerned, still smiling.

“I’m not even mad I said that out loud. It’s too true to deny anyway,” Darcy shrugged, getting off the bed and finding a pair of low socks. She was one of those people who could wear an entire outfit, but still feel naked if there weren’t any socks. It was weird.

 

“Oh, wait,” She said before going out in the hallway after Agent Romanov and the possible murderer/kidnapper. “I didn’t get to tell you what I was going too,” She continued, walking next to the blond.

“Yeah? What was that?” He laughed, brown eyes bright. He'd liked this assignment, didn't need to kill anyone and the girl was nice too. 

 

“That the fact that you can do all of that,” She waved her hand, signaling everything she had said before the old marriage-dispute awoke again, “But you can’t deal with the fact that menstruation is a thing.” Nicholas Fury face palmed, but there was a certain fondness in his eyes. Maria didn’t know what do with herself, so she awkwardly patted his back. What? There was no protocol for this. The Director sent her an understanding look, saying, “She has a way with making the most experienced people feel out of their dept.”

 

“I don’t know, dude.” Murderer/kidnapper answered, a thoughtful tilt to his head. “Sex-Ed at my school was seriously lacking, maybe that has something to do with it?” Darcy nodded, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Maybe. Anyway, I need to know… Why did you do all this?” She asked, and the guy sighed.

“It pays the bills, darling,”

“Yeah, I get that. But who paid you? And what did they want? Why aren’t I dead yet, you had plenty of opportunity…?” Nick stared at the display, making sure Romanov still had the assailant in a tight grip in case he got angry. She did, as always. If Nick couldn’t be there himself to keep her from doing something stupid like _running after the guy hired to kill her_ , he was glad Natasha was there to at least keep her safe.

 

Romanov shot a glance at Barton, mumbling “She does know we have interrogators, right?” Clint shrugged, a smile playing at his lips.

“She’s Mrs. Fury, Nat. Just go with it,” He said.

 

“Look,” The guy said, “I don’t really know. I was paid to scare the Director and you were the only thing that would have worked. Nothing personal, darling,” Blondie shrugged, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“Yeah, well... It probably worked. That was a really asshole thing to do, though. Can you tell me who paid you?” He shook his head,

“Nope. Sorry,”

“Yeah, figured as much. Anyway, uhm… Bye? It wasn’t that nice meeting you, but I’m sure you have several lovely qualities?”

He laughed again. “Yeah, something like that,” Darcy shot a quick smile at him, before darting back to the master bedroom, suddenly impatient to hear Nick’s voice.

 

 

“Am I still on speaker?” Darcy asked as she picked up her phone, the one the attacker who was now whistling happily in the hallway, used. No, Darcy didn’t understand him either.

“Yes, and you’ll continue to be so until you’re on this Helicarrier,”

“Really? I thought we could try adrenalin filled phone-s-“

“Darcy.”

“You are no fun,”

“Just get here safe, please.” Nick said, a worried tone in his voice. “And stop talking with people paid to kill you,”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got Agents Overarm and Thigh-muscles here. Besides, he wouldn’t have killed me; he liked me. I think.”

“Jesus Christ, you-”

“Wow, is Fury finally losing it?”

“Is that Tony Stark?!”

“Coulson, what the fuck is going on, why is Tony fucking Stark here?!”

 

The agent she recognized from New Mexico, who’d introduced himself as Barton with a wide smile, was standing behind her. He still looked pleased about the overarm-comment, which again made Romanov roll her eyes. Both of them stepped forward and Romanov asked for her phone with an expectant look, Darcy willingly handing it over. Nick may or may not have showed her security footage from some of the Widow’s missions and Darcy did not want to get in her way. Ever.

 

“Director Fury?”

“Oh, thank fuck, someone with common sense, finally,”

Darcy shot a look at her phone that clearly stated what thought of that and Clint chuckled. He’s always had a weakness for spitfires.

 

“Maria Hill is standing right next to you, Director,” Natasha noted wryly.

“Ah. Yes. What do you want?” He asked, just ready for this to be over with so he could hold his wife in his arms. He’d much rather deal with an agitated Darcy than a curios Tony Stark, hell, he’d much rather deal with _any_ Darcy than _anyone_. Jesus, hadn’t he promised himself not to get attached to anyone, ever? One drunken night and here they were.

 

“Do you want me to bring Mrs. Fury to the Carrier?”

“Yes. Just take the same jet you used to depart to get back here,” He answered, still keeping watch on the screens. No one was relaxing yet, definitely not the ones on the scene.

 

“Mrs. Fury?!” Tony asked, staring at the short woman on the screens playing the live video around them. “Dude...”

“Mr. Stark, I would advise you to stop looking at Mrs. Fury’s breasts,” Agent Hill said, narrowing her eyes at the man.

“Agreed,” Coulson smiled. Stark narrowed his eyes at the agent, still not that used to seeing him smile. It made him nervous, and the worst part was that Tony didn’t even know _why_. Stupid agents.

 

“Sir,” Natasha answered her boss, effectively ignoring everyone else, already handing the phone back to Darcy. Natasha was a very effective person in general.

 

“Ey, what’s up?” She asked, massaging her stomach as she rummaged though the cupboards looking for her chocolate. Apparently Clint Barton’s skillset involved leading her through her own house without noticing.

 

“You’re coming back to the carrier right now,”

“Do I have time to get dressed?”

“Please tell me she doesn’t have time to get dressed,” Stark said, standing next to Nick. He slapped him in the back of his head. No one blamed him. Gibbs would be proud.

 

“Why? You want a pillow fight, Tony? I can call you Tony, right? Sure I can,” She asked - maybe answered? No one was sure anymore -, moving through the house into the foyer, slipping into a pair of well-loved Doc Martins. Nick’s shirt was longer than most of her dresses anyway, so she didn’t have a problem going somewhat naked. At least she was wearing underwear. Plus, she had her chocolate, and the painkillers she’d taken before shit-went-down were finally kicking in. And having Nick in her ear calmed her down more than her feminist, girl power, fifteen year old self would be happy with.

 

“You do realize the Director over here didn’t actually answer your question, right?” Stark said, though everyone knew he wasn’t complaining.

“And whose fault was that, huh?” Darcy grinned. She liked the man, she decided.

“Tony, shut up. Darcy, no you do not have time to get dressed. I want to do a sweep of the house,”

 

Darcy stopped, body halfway into a hoodie she found on the way out. That too, like nearly everything else she was wearing, was Nick’s. Natasha would never admit this, but she found it sweet.

 

“Nick, please tell me there’s not a bomb in my house,”

“There’s not a bomb in your house, honey,”

“Dude, I thought you were supposed to be the Director of SHIELD? Shouldn’t you have a bit better control of your tells?” She hissed into the phone, and Nick… Nick was just done. He turned the speaker of his phone and went out of earshot from anyone, making sure no one could neither hear him nor read his lips. Tony pouted; he wanted to hear more from the one married to the Director.

 

“Darcy, a man just broke into our home and held you at gunpoint in our bed. You have no idea how much self-control it took to not get into that jet with Barton and Romanov, and I want you up here, safe, with me, so I know you can’t get hurt. Can you please…? Just,” He stopped, took a deep breath. _She’s fine._ _No one got hurt. She’ll be here soon. She’s fine._

 

“ I know, I’m sorry. It was just so scary and…”

“And?” He asked, authoritative voice still managing to sound soft.  He knew how petrified she had been, had seen it in the faint tremble of her thigh.

“And you weren’t there,” She admitted, voice small and frightened. Usually, she absolutely hated feeling like this; like she needed someone to protect her from the big bad world. But with Nick… It didn’t feel so bad. She took care of him just as much as he took care of her. Give and take, right?

 

“I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” He said, the guilt and fear he’d been suppressing ever since he heard that man’s voice rising to the surface.

 

“No, no, don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault,” Darcy said, already sensing where this was going. If Nick let his guard down around you, let you get to know him; her husband was very easy to read.

 

“And if you suggest getting a divorce or something…” Her voice wasn’t any louder, and she knew that everyone else in the car on the way to the jet was within hearing-distance. They seemed to shutting her conversation out, though, more focused on their surroundings. Barton was the only one concentrating on her, but he made a point of not looking, understanding the need for privacy. Darcy liked Clint too.

Natasha occasionally glanced at her in the mirror, probably curious. Maybe she was a bit protective over the Director? Darcy didn’t know, but since she didn’t feel uncomfortable, she didn’t mind. She was glad her husband had someone on his side.

 

“I can’t deny the thought didn’t cross me,” Nick chuckled; the voice nothing like the rich laughter Darcy was used to from him. She frowned at the sound.

“Yeah, but it has ever since we woke up that morning, hasn’t it?” Darcy said sympathetically, softly smiling at the memory. Clint leaned over her to open the door as the car stopped, quickly escorting her to the tiny jet. Her t-shirt was around the mid of her thigh, flaring a bit in the wind. It wasn’t cold out though, but she was glad she took the hoodie with her. The wind was a bit chilly.

 

They had known each other maybe eight hours at most when they drunkenly decided to get married. After a slightly awkward breakfast and phone-number exchange, they’d decided to give it a go. She was leaving for New Mexico, yes he did give her that tazer, and they got to know each other over the phone for a few weeks. When she got home after the whole Aliens-Are-Real-And-Our-Marriage-Is-Classified-Happening, she moved into Nick’s house. He was so rarely home; it was basically unused, so she felt like it was just as much hers as his. It took two weeks until it was _theirs_.

 

“Yeah,” Nick sighed, just as lost in his thoughts as her. Of course, he was still Nicholas motherfucking Fury, so he was also intently aware of everything going on. The training he had was too ingrained in his bones for anything else.

“We’ll be fine, Nicholas. We’ve been so far,” Darcy comforted, knowing that Nick did agree with her. He just had a hard time remembering it sometimes, when the realization the she was his soft spot threatened.  

 

Agent Barton helped strap her into the tiny chairs of the jet, giving her a blanket to keep over her legs. Darcy shot him a grateful smile, and the answering one was nice. The jet was just taking off when Darcy continued, this time with a wry note to her voice.

“Besides, now that you’ve had me, how are you ever going to let me go?”

“You thinking about anything special?” He asked, amused again. He’d let this one go, there would be other times to discuss the fact that if anyone got their hold of Darcy, they could make Nick do whatever they wanted unless the Black Widow got to them. Oh God, he was so fucked; it wasn’t even funny.

 

“Well, there’s the sex, obviously,” Darcy could see Clint smirking in the corner of her eye, and winked at him in return, a smile of her own painted on her lips.

“Obviously,” Nick chuckled.

“And my pastries,”

“Mhm. And your failed attempts at cooking _actual food_ is funny to watch,”

“Hey! My cupcakes are _actual food_ , okay? Thor loves them.”

“Thor will eat anything,”

“Yeah, but he said he _loved_ them.” She laughed. Clint walked over to her, unfastening her seatbelt, as the locks on it were ridiculously complicated. She hadn’t even noticed the landing, but then again, Natasha Romanov. You didn’t really need another explanation.

 

“I’m right in front of you,” Nicholas said,

“I know. That coat is extremely dramatic, babe,”

“Please, you love it,”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” She sighed, finally being able to step into the safety his arms.

 

If she had taken the time to concentrate on anything other than how small and overwhelmingly _safe_ she felt there, surrounded by the smell of Nick and the feel of his sweater, Darcy would have noticed the way everyone discreetly turned away from them on Coulson’s orders, giving the pair some privacy. (But who where they kidding, Director Fury was hugging his _wife_ , who was somewhere around _twenty years younger_. No one blamed them for sneaking a few glances.)

 

Barton shared a wink with Phil, who rolled his eyes in return. Clint was a closet romantic, and thought the Director’s state of mind-blowing panic, carefully concealed under years of training, was cute. Yes, he was slightly fucked up; whatever made you think that? But come on. It was SHIELD. It was basically a requirement. At least he had Phil to come home to, and he was glad that Director Fury had someone of his own. This job was tough enough when you had someone who understood, but doing it alone? Virtually impossible.

 

“Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s freezing out here,” He said, steering her towards the safety of the carrier, his arm never letting go of her, his mouth pressing a kiss against her temple. Darcy smiled up at him,

“Yeah, that sounds good. I think I may have accidentally promised Tony Stark a pillow fight and I don’t know how it happened,”

“It happened like everything else that happens to you happen-“

“Wow, say that five times,”

“-You open your mouth without thinking about it and suddenly you’re on a Helicarrier because you got drunk and married the first man you saw,”

“No, you weren’t the first man I saw. You were the _hottest_ man I saw. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

 

Darcy stopped.

 

“The difference, my beloved, is that even though you were the one who married someone about twenty years younger with a fantastic rack, I was the shallow one!” Darcy realized with a surprise, staring at her husband’s smile.

 

“Does that make me the gold-digger?” Nick grinned.

 

Phil walked into a pole. The junior agents considered it proof he was human for years to follow, though some thought his wiring failed and something with the magnets got fucked up.

 

Nick didn’t give a shit about any of this, happy that Darcy was safe and there with him.

“So…” She said, once she was sure Phil wasn’t concussed. Considering how hard was Clint was laughing, she figured he was safe.

“Since adrenalin-filled phone-sex is off the table, how about –“ She continued, but Nick interrupted her. _Again_.

 

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll just ask Stark. He seemed more than willing to indulge me,”

“Great. You’ll be the one living with the guilt of being responsible for his death then,”

“You know, possessiveness is only cute when it leads to orgasms and hickeys.”

"You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart," 


End file.
